Trouble At 221B
by Middle-Earthling
Summary: An A-Z collection of BBC Sherlock drabbles of all kinds, done in 221B form, though mostly angst, hurt/comfort, fluff or sick fics. Some chapters may contain Johnlock. Rated T for possible swearing, and because I'm paranoid. **This probably won't be updated like ever, but I'll try**
1. Chapter 1 'Achoo'

Sherlock moaned miserably as he lay on his bed, covering his face with has hand as he sneezed yet again. He'd caught a nasty cold after spending a little too long out in the rain, it felt like it was the end of the world.

Nothing was worse than having to do nothing because of something so trivial and... ordinary as the common cold. He was Sherlock Holmes, the worlds only consulting detective, and it was frankly ridiculous that he could be layed low by something as stupid and human as a cold.

But just because a cold was silly didn't mean he wasn't going to try to milk it for all it was worth.

"How are you doing?" asked John, sticking his head around the door to check on his flat mate.

"I'm dying, John," Sherlock said, choosing that moment to cough.

"You're not dying Sherlock," John replied, giving Sherlock a disapproving stare.

"But John, I am - achoo!" Sherlock's response was drowned out by a load sneeze.

"You'll be fine, Sherlock. I'm going to make you some tea, okay?" John said.

Sherlock pouted, trying to act as if he were upset by John's lack of interest, but he knew that, should anything really happen to him, John would have his back.


	2. Chapter 2 'Bed'

"Sherlock, go to bed, it's been four days since you last slept and we're not on a case anymore," John said, giving Sherlock what he sincerely hoped was a menacing and authoritive glare.

"No, John, I'm not tired and I have an experiment that needs to be done within the next 12 hours or the results won't be conclusive..." Sherlock trailed off, noting how unimpressed John looked.

"You can sleep for a few hours, then do your experiment," John replied, still keeping his glare fimrly in place.

"But it really would be far better if I did it now, and I don't need to sleep," Sherlock said, still trying to get his way.

"I don't care about your stupid experiment, I care about you shutting up and letting your body have the rest it needs."

"It doesn't matter what my body needs, it's just transport, it's fine for another few days and I really do need to do this experiment!" Sherlock said, trying to sound as authoritive as he could.

"No, Sherlock, you are going to bed _now_," John said, putting a firm emphasis on the word 'now'.

"But John I - "

"No," John said.

"But the experiment needs to be done, now!"

"No, no experiments, they can wait. Now, go to bed."


	3. Chapter 3 'Cats'

John smiled as he crouched down low, to pet the cute little ginger tabby cat sitting on the low wall. It purred and rubbed it's head against his hand as he stroked it.

"Sherlock, look at it!" John exclaimed, totally taken with the sweet little cat.

"It's a cat, John. I have seen cats before, that is hardly an exciting find," Sherlock said, staring at the cat disapprovingly.

"Oh shut up Sherlock, it's so cute!" John laughed as the cat rubbed it's head up and down his left leg.

Sherlock didn't respond, he merely continued to glare at the cat, and John's frankly ridiculous reaction to an animal.

John ignored Sherlock, and continued to pet the cat, laughing or 'awe-ing' everytime the cat rubbed it's head against him. "I really don't know what you have against this cat, Sherlock, it never did anything to you!"

Sherlock just huffed and looked away.

"Oh!" John said suddenly, realizing why Sherlock disliked John's affection for the cat. "You're jealous, aren't you?"

"No."

"You want me to pay attention to you, don't you?"

"No..."

"Oh Sherlock, you know I'll always love you the most," John said, letting go of the cat and putting his arm around the waist of his boyfriend.


	4. Chapter 4 'Dream'

Sherlock woke as he felt something jab him in the side. He blinked, and waited. There was more movement to his right. He turned to face it.

Oh! It was John. They'd only been sharing a bed for two weeks, and neither had really gotten used to it, though they enjoyed waking up in each others arms. Tonight, that was not the case. John wasn't awake, but he wasn't sleeping peacefully, either.

He was tossing and turning, lips moving in silent speech. He was having a dream, and a bad one, at that.

Sherlock had never been very good at providing comfort to others, but there were many things he did for John that he never thought he'd be able to do for another human being. Sherlock rolled onto his side so he facaed his lover, then brought his hand up and started running it through John's hair, muttering soothing things.

"Shh, it's just a dream."

"It's not real."

"You're safe."

"I'll protect you."

"Don't you worry, you're safe."

Sherlock continued to mutter things he thought would comfort his John, even though he couldn't understand the reasoning behind it, he knew it provided relief and comfort, as John calmed at the sound of his voice, relaxing against the bed.


End file.
